On the Warpath
by red roses are pink
Summary: There is no happy end, at least not for him. (A 'how Dexter should end'-fic, Dexter/Debra, character death)
1. Chapter 1

**I'm still disappointed with this season and after this… crap they showed us in episode eight I read a few reviews before I was going to see episode nine. What am I supposed to say? I still haven't seen the episode... I think I will just ignore everything that happened after episode six in mind. However I had some expectation about how Dexter's going to end but they probably won't come true, so I'll write my own ending. Yeah!**

**This story sets after episode eight and I ignore everything I read about episode nine. In the first chapter is a lot of talking, this will chance in the next ones, but firstly I had to make right what the creators did so horribly wrong. English is still not my first language, so it there will be a few (a lot) grammar mistakes, I hope you can ignore them.**

**And now have fun. Next chapter will come next week xoxo**

"_He's really all I have. __I can't even imagine what a fucking mess my life would be without him."_

It's still quite early when Debra stands in front of Dexter's door, nervous, not sure if this is a good idea. She hasn't seen her brother in a week, not since she followed him and Hannah Mc_Cunt _and instead of arresting or fucking _kill__ing _her, she just let her go. Of course she did it for him, because when she was face to face with Hannah, she realized that Dexter may have forgave her for trying to kill him, but probably wouldn't do it, if she slaughtered his beloved girlfriend.(And when she thinks about it that way, who can blame him?) So she did what she did her whole life: forgot about her wishes to make him happy. And it's not like she really expected a 'thank you' or an apology but something, maybe a call, would have been nice. After he followed her around like a dog for nearly six month (even though she clearly didn't want to see him) it's now like there is no room in his life for her anymore. And that is what really hurts; not the fact, that he likes to fuck a killing bitch, but the feeling that she's just good enough for him as long as there isn't anyone better around, is what doesn't let her sleep at night.

Debra knows she should let him go, forget about him, because he isn't good for her anymore, he destroys her and everything else in her life, but it hurts so badly when she even thinks about leaving him, she's sure as hell that she'll never be in the condition to let him go, not by herself at least. Maybe she should go to therapy. But when did this ever anything good on her? The first shrink talked her into being in love with Dexter and the second one nearly made her kill herself, so maybe she should be alone in her pretty little house forever. Not seeing anyone, not hearing from anyone, no TV, no internet, just her and her misery. Maybe that would make her happy.

The door suddenly swings open and Jamie and Harrison stand in front of her. For a moment Jamie shots her a death-glare but then it's gone and she smiles slightly. "Hey, Debra."

"Jamie." She tries to smile like a girl who definitely hasn't sex with your boyfriend, because well, she really hasn't. She crouches down and ruffles Harrison's hair. "Morning."

He giggles and gives her a kiss on the cheek. " Good Morning."

"On your way to school?"

"Yep."

"Well, then have fun and try to learn something important." She gives him a short peek on his forehead before she stands up and Harrisons starts running towards the stairs.

"Dexter's dressing in his room", Jamie says halfheartedly smiling and follows Harrison.

"Yeah, thank you", Debra mumbles and enters the apartment. She just closed the door when she hears footsteps and Dexter is suddenly in front of her.

"Oh, hey." He looks like he's uncomfortable with her being here and she realizes that she didn't even give a thought about what she's going to say to him.

"Hey." They keep some seconds quiet, then: "We have to talk." Well, better than nothing.

"About Hannah?" It sounds kind of annoyed, tired, like they didn't do anything else than talking about Hannah for years.

She wants to say yes, but when she thinks about it she isn't here because of Hannah. "No, about me…. And you. "

"Okay… Wanna sit down?" It's awkward, standing there in his hall/kitchen/living room, but she shakes her head. It's not a conversation she can have while she sits.

"A beer would be nice."

"It's not even eight o'clock." He looks slightly worried what makes her skin prickle. _He still cares about her._

"It's not like I didn't take worse things by this time of day a few weeks ago." Now he looks shocked, what makes her feel even better. She knows it's stupid, but she still seeks his attention as much as she did when they were little kids.

She sighs. "I can't do this anymore."

"What do you mean?" He looks puzzled.

"All of this. Do all the things I had to do just to make you happy. It's… When dad was still alive I tried everything to make him proud of me, but he didn't even care, because he had enough to do with you."

"Deb…"

Now that she started, it seems like she suddenly knows what to say, that all the things she couldn't explain to herself are clear, like someone flipped a switch in her head. "No, it's alright. It wasn't, sometimes I even hated you for stealing my father, but since I _know_ I get it and it's okay. But when dad died I sort of needed someone else who could be proud of me and there wasn't really anyone besides you, so I tried everything to impress you. But of course you didn't understand it because you're emotional disabled or some shit. Just not when it gets down to _her._" He opens his mouth to interrupt her, but she doesn't let him. "No, I'm not finished. It didn't work so I tried to find other men who could make me happy… to fill this emptiness and well… Rudy tried to kill me, because he was just after you, Frank died and Anton and Quinn weren't enough. They both really loved me and gave me everything I ever dreamed of, but they weren't you. I know, it's sick and you don't even wanna hear it, but you have to understand."

"I don't think I do."

"Everything I ever did was for dad and when he was gone, everything I did was for you. Do you think I wanted to let Hannah go? That bitch tried to kill me, because she didn't want to _share _you and even the thought that she talks to– let alone _hugs - _ Harrison makes me wanna fucking puke, but I didn't arrested her, because it wasn't what you wanted. And this last year… Everything I've done was for you or because of you and that's like… I think I'm losing myself."

"I'm sorry." She wishes he would say something else, anything, but like always when she tries to tell him something about her feelings he looks like he doesn't have a fucking clue what language she's talking. The urge to hit him is suddenly so strong that it makes her shake. She just wants to see a reaction on his face; hate, anger, discuss, love, anything.

Then he opens his mouth and she asks herself why she didn't do it years ago; keep quiet until he begins to talk. "You know what's funny? Actually Harry just gave me the code for two reasons: for me, to protect me from the electric chair and for you, to protect you from the truth – from me", he smiles a bit when he says it, "So everything I did the last years was sort of for you… just not in the same way."

Even though she doesn't want, she smiles back. "I sometimes wish dad would have told me what he was doing with you. I probably wouldn't have been so angry all the time, and I would have understood you both and wouldn't have spent the better part of my life questioning myself."

"He just did it, because he thought it was the best for you."

"I know."

"And it nearly destroyed you, when you found out, Deb. What do you think would have happen to you when you knew what I was up to from the beginning?"

"Yeah, you probably right. It's a nice thought, though, a happy family."

"I'm sorry, I-"

"Stop apologizing. It's not your fault, not exactly at least. I know what you are, I know what you can give me, I just have to accept that. When I look at your last decisions I think you're stupid as fuck though, but maybe it's time that I learn that your decisions don't have to affect my life. Maybe I shouldn't see you in a while and I don't mean the 'refuse to talk to you'- but the 'just calling you when it's really important'-way."

"Well, that should be… I think I have to tell you something."

"Spit it out."

"I wanna leave… with Hannah."

And just like that everything crashes down. "What the fuck?! What… When?! Why? Harrison… You are fucking kidding me, aren't you?"

"I wanted to wait until I killed the brain surgeon-"

"Wait a minute. The brain surgeon is dead! We dump him in the ocean together."

"Seems like we had the wrong guy. You remember Zach Hamilton?"

"The boy who was together with you and Hannah?"

"Yes. He's dead. If found him in my apartment the same night. A part of his brain was missing."

"Jesus Christ, Dex, ever thought about giving me a fucking call?"

"It's under control, okay? I think I'll find him soon, just one or two more days…"

"You wanna tell me that you want to leave Miami with Hannah in one or two days and you didn't even plan to say goodbye?"

"Well, I need some more days to take care of everything else…"

"So, you wanted to call me from the airport?"

He looks guilty und she starts shaking her head in disbelieve. "You are such a fucking asshole, Dexter. I can't even believe it. You just wanted to go without giving me the chance to say goodbye to you and… oh fuck, don't tell me you want to take Harrison with you?!"

"What? Of course-"

"Of course? _Of course?! _Are you fucking shitting me now?! You want to take your little son with you, who lost his mother and sat in her blood for hours when he wasn't even a year old, with this reckless, killing whore to Shitstown on Serialkillerisland?! Please, just say you're joking!"

"He adores Hannah!"

"He adores… How blind are you? I always thought you could look behind the mask or some shit like that and now you want to tell me she would be a good mother for Harrison? She's a _killer_! Fuck."

"Yeah, and I'm one too, if you didn't recognize it!"

"I did, fuck you very much. But she's not like you! She had two husbands and she killed them both! She tried to kill me, because I didn't fit her expectation of a fucking relationship with you! What do you think she's going to do to you or Harrison?!"

"She's not like that! You don't even know her!"

"And you do? I share a secret with you; sometimes even after nearly forty years you can learn that you didn't even have a fucking clue who the person you love is." She takes a deep breath and tries to calm herself down but it isn't really working, "You know what? When you'll try to leave with Hannah and take Harrison with you, I'll call the cops and I don't care if they'll just arrest her or both of you. I'll make sure Harrison's save, no matter what."

"You wouldn't do that." He almost sounds like he's sure. Almost.

"No? He's my nephew, I would do nearly everything to protect him."

"He doesn't need protection from me, I'm his father!"

"Not from you, but from the decision you make! Why don't you understand it, Dexter? You two, you are my family! The only family I have left! You can't just go and leave me behind without saying a word! Why would you do this to me?"

"Because I thought it was the best for you!"

"I'm old enough, Dex, I can decide what's the best for me all by myself! And the best for me is sure as fuck not losing my whole family."

"Yeah, but you just said it: I'm not good to you, I _destroy_ you! I don't want to leave you Deb, I really, really don't, but it's for the best. Hannah's already destroyed, just like me, but maybe we can fix each other, and even if it doesn't work, I won't do any more harm."

"But I would do it, Dex", her voice sounds suddenly small, harsh from all the screaming, "I would do anything to fix you, you just have to let me."

"What is when it doesn't work? What is if I'm going to make everything just worse?"

"You won't. You can't. The worst thing would be if you left me for good. It would kill me. I wouldn't survive it. Please, just stay with me and let us find a solution. Together." The urge to cry is suddenly over helming. What happened to her? She isn't even in the condition to make one step without her brother. How is it possible that you feel so much for someone that it's nearly like you are the same person, just that you don't share the same body?

She takes a step forward and is now only a few inches away from him. When he stays where he is, she cups his face with her hands. She can feel his hair and beard stubble under her fingers, his breath on her skin. It feels fitting, like her hands belong there. She studies his face, his eyes, cheekbones, nose, lips. Suddenly she's afraid it might be the last time she sees him, that he would be gone in the morning without any trace.

"There was a time you killed your own brother for me. What happened?" It's sick, so sick, but she doesn't care. He isn't in the position to judge, he's the one who did this to her, damaged her for good.

"I don't know." It sounds honest. More honest than everything he said to her in a long time.

And then, without warning, she lays her lips on his. It's warm and sort of rough and feels like home and after a second he kisses her back. There isn't much sexual about this kiss, well, clearly too much for siblings, but there isn't any promise for more in it and still she starts to shiver. He kisses her lazy, what surprises her, because she always thought his kisses would be aggressive and taste like blood somehow, instead they taste like him and herself and a little bit like Rudy.

He breaks the kiss after what feels like an eternity. For a moment she expects him to go away, to let her stand here alone, but he doesn't take a step back. It's awkward, somehow, but probably not as much as it should be.

"Just don't leave quite yet okay. Stay, even if it's just for a few weeks. I… you…" She drops her hands and folds her arms in front of her chest, suddenly feeling vulnerable.

"Until we figured this out." He sighs and doesn't sound too happy but she can't bring herself to care. He put her through so much, he can spend a few weeks with thinking about fucking his sister.

"Yeah."

He nods. "Maybe you should go now."

It hurts to hear it, because for a moment she thought everything between them would suddenly be alright. But there's still the big pink elefant named Hannah with them in the room. "Right. Well, but call me. I wanna know when you killed the brain surgeon and… just don't fucking dare to leave without a word."

"I won't."

"Good." She's about to turn and go out of the door when his hand is on her arm.

He opens his mouth a few times and closes it again like he isn't sure how he's suppose to say whatever is on his mind.

"It's alright", she says, "Take your time."

"I'll call you", he promises.

"Well, I hope so." And with that she's out of his door.

It feels freeing when she leaves his aparment, like she left all her bad thought there with him, still she's sort of confused, because even though she dreamed about kissing Dexter and doing other _things _to him for over a year now, it's still fucking weird. He's her brother for Christ' sake and there's this little voice in her head saying that she's fucking crazy for giving him so much control over her life. Again.

She sighs when she sits in her car. She wants to talk to someone suddenly so badly that her head swirls. Well, it's not like she has much choices; nearly every friend she had she lost in the last two years, actually only Quinn's left, but he's the last person she would ever talk to about this. So, there's just one person she can call and well... it's not really optimal.

Still she takes her smartphone out and scrolls through her contacts until she finds the name and presses 'call'. A few moments later Vogel picks up her phone. "Debra?" She sounds surprised, probably because the last time they talked they dumped a body together.

"Yes, well, I… I need someone to talk to and you're the only one-"

"Of course. I'm at home, come over."

"Just if-"

"It's alright, Debra. Come over and I'll make us breakfast."

"Okay, thank you."

And with another deep sigh she starts the energy.


	2. Chapter 2

**This was actually hard to write even though it's the chapter I planned at first. I'm not completely happy with it, it's so... dark but I always thought Dexter would end that way, so yeah beware; blood ahead. The next chapter will be easier and better, I hope.**

**Thanks to **_The L. MMonster _**for the review!**_**  
**_

"_If Deb dies I'll be… lost." _

The morning passes in a blur. Dexter got a call to a crime scene, some shot woman with all her jewelry gone, and did his work without paying any attention to his surroundings; taking photos, gather evidences and when someone tried to talk to him he just hummed something without even listening to what the person said. It's nearly ten o'clock when he finally sits in his office and even though he should probably do some work he can't concentrate on anything else then what happened in his apartment this morning.

He knew that Debra had those feelings for him, but she never tried to act on them what made it easy to ignore it, now however it's everything on his mind and he thinks he starts to understand her. Somehow. He still doesn't get why she didn't leave him or gave him to the cops after everything he did to her, but he thinks he starts to see how deeply she really loves him and maybe he even understands it. It's sort of hard; he's still new in this feeling-business and emphasizing with his emotional sister wouldn't even be easy if he was normal, but at least he's pretty sure now that she isn't imagine all of this. And when the conversation with Debra showed him one thing, than it is that he can't leave her.

She was the only one who gave him the feeling that he wasn't a monster, the only one who really loved him. She kept him sane, not just when they were younger but even after Rita died and Lumen left. And when she found out who he was she accepted it though it was against everything she believed in. She gave up her whole life, even herself, for his sake. No, he can't just leave and if he's honest with himself he doesn't even want to. She was right; there was a time he killed his own brother for her and if it would be necessary he would still do it. He would burn the whole world down for her.

But there's still Hannah, or the _idea _of Hannah. She's just like him; she's a reckless, heartless killer with no conscience to speak of and the only thing she really wants is to find a place where she belongs. And like with Debra it's a miracle that she's still on his side. Hannah seems to be everything he ever dreamed of; someone she is just like him and understands and accepts him the way he is and is able to give him some peace. _Argentina. _It seems so real when he is with Hannah, but can he really relay on her? She isn't predictable, seems to find a reason to kill somebody too soon - he isn't even sure if she always needs a reason - so what if she will be a threat to Harrison like Debra said?

And maybe his Argentina was always there, right in front of him. He has a good life and maybe everything he ever missed was Debra. Now that she knows his secret and gave so much to protect him, to _understand _him, why shouldn't she be able to give him what he sought his whole life; a place that feels like home, where he can be himself without being scared, where he doesn't feels like a monster, where someone is with him.

He imagines it: Him, Debra and Harrison living in his apartment. They'll fight over who drank the last cup of coffee and who has to do the laundry and they'll laugh together and remember old stories from their childhood and Debra will roll her eyes on him and will say he's a douchbag once in a while. There will be beer and steaks and lazy evenings on the couch and Debra will kiss Harrison goodnight every day and he would have something like a mother again, one with a potty mouth, who isn't like all the other moms, but one who would love him just like any other mother loves her child. And maybe Dexter will share his bed with Debra, sleep next to her, sleep _with _her, because it'll feel right, like it always should have been that way and he will wake up in the morning and the first think he sees is her face and he'll be happy. Nothing more, nothing less, just happy.

He sees it suddenly so clearly, that it surprises him, that he have never seen it that way before. It seems perfect, like it's meant to be. But it can't be so simple, can it?

Without giving it a second thought he grabs his keys and bag and goes to his car. It's a fifteen minutes' drive and the whole time he thinks about what he's going to say to Debra. He just has to know if it could be the way he imagines it, someday. There are a lot of things they'll have to discuss and work out and it won't be perfect or easy in the next couple of weeks, maybe even month, but he isn't ready to give her up. There's still Hannah and he still wants her and Argentina, but he can't leave without figuring out what's between him and Deb. She kissed him and he kissed her back and it felt _right_ and it's fucked up because she's his sister and he's a serial killer, but she's is a part of his life, always was, and there were times when he played with the thought that she could be more than a sister; an accomplice, a lover.

He's at her house too soon. He still hasn't figured out what he's going to say, but when he knocks on her door no one opens. He wanders around the house and looks through every window and doesn't see anyone. He tries her phone and when she still doesn't answer after the third time he begins to worry. Debra just doesn't pick up her phone when she's either angry or working hard, which both isn't possible, because he didn't do anything wrong (at least in the last couple of hours) and she quitted her job. There aren't many options left so he tries to call Quinn. He's confused when Dexter asks him about Deb and wants to know if something's wrong, but Dexter just lets him promise that he'll call when he hears something from her. Then it hits him; there's still one person Debra might go to.

He runs to his car.

After he found Zach Hamilton dead in his apartment he started investigating in a different direction and even though he didn't find any real proof he's pretty sure, that Vogel's the Brain Surgeon. And now Debra's gone.

It's like when Brian got her all over again; his heart is racing, his palms are sweaty, his whole body is trembling and the only thing he can think about is: _Let me be wrong. She's fine. She's alive. No one's gonna harm her. _

He drives faster than ever before and he thinks there was a small crash because of him, but he can't bring him to care. Normally you need half an hour to get to Vogel's from Debra's house; he makes it in twenty minutes. When he stops his car he sees immediately Debra's.

Dexter tries to calm himself, but it isn't working, it just gets worse. He feels like he's panicking. A feeling he never really had before. After he got out of his car he slowly walks the driveway to the front door, searching for a sing that there anything wrong, but the house looks as peaceful as always. Well, what did he accepted? Knifes on the porch? Screams? Blood?

The door isn't locked and after he made sure that no one was directly behind it, he opens it. The house is quiet. There aren't muffled voices, no low music. He walks through the long hall, looking in every room, but there's nowhere a sign neither from Debra nor from Vogel. He nearly calls himself foolish for overreacting that way, because they are probably just out, doing some therapy stuff and of course Debra wouldn't answer her phone, but then he enters the living room and sees her.

Debra is sitting on a chair, her head is bend down, her hair covers her face and her hands are in her lap and for a moment it almost looks like she's only sleeping. Then he sees the blood in her hair and on her t-shirt, the scalpels on the little table beside her and a glass. He doesn't have to look inside to know what is in there.

"Dexter?"

Vogel stands suddenly next to him. She looks confused, shocked and a little bit like she's… sorry. Without even planning to do it he pins Vogel against the nearest wall and puts his hands around her throat. She makes a little groan and he just presses more. It's like the control he had over himself is just gone and all that's left is rage and bloodlust. "What. Did you. Do to her." He says it in a low tone and it sounds more like a growl than a human voice.

Vogel moves her lips but no sound gets out of her. He releases his grip a little bit and she starts to take fast and deep breathes immediately. "I had to…"

"You killed her!" _She's dead. She's gone. You're alone, she'll never get back._

_Keep her safe, Dexter._

"I did it for you!" She screams back nearly as loud as him. He is sort of surprised that she's even capital of so much emotion. "She was in your way."

Suddenly one of her hands is on his cheek and when she speaks again her voice is low and soft like it used to. "We created you, we gave you a life worth living for. You're perfect, Dexter. You're not just a killer, you're a hero. And she tried to destroy everything I worked for and she would have succeeded in the end."

"How should she?!" _You destroyed me, Dexter. Everything that was important in my life is gone because of_ you!

"Don't you see it? You couldn't focus on what you have to do when she was around. She didn't want you to be a killer, she wanted you to be normal so you tried it and you nearly lost yourself. After what she told me this morning I knew it was just a question of time she would try to change you again and you would have done what she said to you, because that's the way we raised you. I had to save you from her, Dexter!"

"Just shut up!" He tightens the grip on her throat again, but she's still somehow capital of speaking.

"You are free now. You don't have to take care of her anymore. You can be yourself." There's something in her eyes that makes him wanna hit her, strangle her, stab her. Is it pride?

_It's your fault. She did it because of you. You should have let Debra go. You killed her._

"I can't live without her", he pushes Vogel hard against so her head gives an ugly sound when it collides with the wall, "She was the only good in my life and now she's dead!" His fingers tighten more on her neck and Vogel starts to struggle for breathe

_Destroy her! Just like she destroyed Deb. Maybe it will make you forget the pain._

"Dex-ter… please…" she stutters, a pleading look in her eyes, "let…" One of his hands leaves her throat to take the nearest scalpels from the little table. And stabs Vogel in her stomach. A low scream escapes her and she looks horrified at him. He takes the scalpel out, blood's splatters on his shirt. He pushes it back in, a few inches higher. The low moan that comes from he is satisfying, so he stabs her again and again. Till his hands are wet with blood and the scalpel is slippery between his fingers. Vogel doesn't make any sounds, her eyes are closed and when he lets go of her neck she slips to the floor.

He few seconds he stands over Vogel's dead body and tries to calm down, find some control over his shaking body, but it isn't working. He _feels. _He feels like he never felt before. Anger, rage, hate. It's so much that he wants to start screaming just to realize it.

_Debra is dead. She's dead. You killed her. Debra. Debra. _

The scalpel falls out of his hand and he turns to look at her again.

_Dead. Just a lifeless shell. Nothing more._

He sinks to his knees. Takes her cold hands in his and lets them go when he sees the blood that he leaves on her. His little sister shouldn't be covered in blood. Never. But she was. Too many times.

_And you were always responsible for it. _

"It's all your fault." Debra sits suddenly besides him; one of her bloody hands lies on his shoulder the other von strokes his hair. He turns a little bit to have a better look on her. She looks alive. So beautiful and alive.

"If it wasn't for your selfishness I would still be alive. You should have told me about Vogel, but you were just to fucking busy to leave me. And now I'm dead." She speaks in a low tone with a tinny, sad smile on her face.

"I didn't want that to happen to you", he says in a flat voice.

"I know", she lies a hand on his cheek and he closes his eyes under her touch, "and still it happened. Me, Rita, Laguerta, Doakes, we all died because of you, although we didn't deserve it. Your code isn't working anymore, Dexter. You are killing everything around you."

He puts his hand on hers that still lies on his cheek, his eyes stay closed. "I don't want to go through this without you. I can't."

"Well, you still have Hannah, that's what you wanted and I won't be in your way anymore."

"I want you. I love you." And it's true, more than ever before.

"It's too late for it now, isn't it? I tried to say it to you so many times, but you wouldn't listen, wouldn't understand."

"I know."

"It's eternally your fault. No one else's. You're responsible."

"What am I supposed to do know?" He opens his eyes.

"I don't know. Live on? Run? Go to fucking Argentina?" He looks back from the Debra that sits in front of him to the lifeless one. He suddenly feels sick.

"I have to get out of her", he says to Debra and stands up. He runs to the door, trembling like he hasn't any control over his body anymore. Angry, furious, hurt.

_It's all your fault. _


End file.
